


Crucible

by Ralloonx



Series: The Bond before the war [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Giving Birth, M/M, Mpreg, Nothing shown in detail, Original Character(s), Transformer Sparklings, mechling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-01-16 13:03:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21271487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralloonx/pseuds/Ralloonx
Summary: Me goofing off. Some three decades after the end of Rebuilding Issues.





	1. Chapter 1

Decades later...

Megaton vented hard as he stood in New Kaon’s main circle and looked at the statue that had been put up there. Arms folded, he found he still didn’t like it. More for aesthetic tastes than anything else. 

It’d take him months to talk the idiots out of statues of him and Optimus. That Optimus had refused as well made sure that idea was completely, and firmly, off the table. But this? Flowing metal, and two, purposely genetic mechs holding up a globe? No, he didn’t find it all that attractive.

But someone was talking to him. “...Megatron?”

He tore his processor away from his cycling thoughts to look to the mech next to him. Renovarus had been calling him repeatedly. “Hmm?” Asked with a grunt and a grumble of engine.

The mechling was nearly as tall as he was now. Would be as tall soon enough. Renovarus was still slender however. That too would change, but for now he was gangly. Kind of in that awkward teen phase. But that didn’t stop Megatron from being fiercely proud of the young mech. Renovarus wore medical sigils now because he had pursued, and earned them. He was still blue and dusty gray, for they’d done away with only white medics as soon as they started training anyone who wanted to learn.

Renovarus shifted his weight, watching his sire with a slight helm tilt. “..Should I leave you be?” Asked politely. While the mechling had no fear of his sire, for Megatron had worked hard to give him no reason, he knew the warlord had moods.

Megatron shook his helm, “No. I don’t like it. That’s all.”

Glancing to the artwork, Renovarus’ blue optics returned to Megatron. “We could ask them to move it?” As quiet as he still was, Renovarus had unfortunately inherited his carrier’s sarcasm. 

New Kaon was much different these days. The thousands of sparks had all forged up, housing had been made for everyone, and the community was bustling. They’d been turning their attention to making their home beautiful. And it was. History was being carved into walls, and artwork was everywhere. No longer was it a crude set of structures and rooms underground. There were even attempts to build above ground, but that was proving difficult thanks to the acid rains. The solar panels were hard enough to maintain. “Where? The slagheap?” Megatron asked, smirking. “No, I’ll endure. What did you need?”

Datapad in hand, he lowered that and clasped his other wrist. “To say hello. I was going home and saw you glowering at the poor statue. Come inside and have some energon with me? We can let the statue slink off in shame without us glaring at it.”

Megatron rolled his optics, but rumbled his agreement. Energon would be good. Not standing out here in disapproval would be even better. It made him think of Ratchet. Where was the peanut gallery? A brush at the link showed him a mind deep in work and distracted. He decided not to interrupt. Turning himself, the warlord walked with his mechling towards the administration building. Their habitat had been enlarged a few years ago, for a triad with mechling required more room, but it was still just as spartan as it had been.

Fields meshing pleasantly, Megatron slid an arm around Renovarus once they were inside. A light hug as they walked. The mechling smiled and leaned in against him briefly. They passed Prowl and a group of other administration mechs, but were paid little mind. 

Their upper floor habitat was now a comfortable space. Having knocked out all the walls of two separate habs, the upper floor was now wholly their living space. The stairs brought one to their living room, and here Renovarus put his datapad away and went to the kitchen setup to fill two cubes with energon.

It was as the two were seated near the window in the living area that Megatron got a system message. Pausing with the cube to his lips, the warlord frowned and put his energon down. Renovarus stopped his story about a drunk in medical for that frown. “Megatron?” He certainly didn’t think it was his story. Perhaps a comm.

Megatron shook his helm, “My apologies, Renovarus, but I believe I need to go to medical.” With this he stood, leaving his energon behind.

Renovarus blinked at his sire, then stood. “What happened?” He asked, touching the other mech’s arm. “Megatron?”

There was another shake of helm. “Come.” Megatron ordered and strode off.

It was First Aid who got to deal with Megatron as Ratchet was in surgery and couldn’t extract himself. Megatron wasn’t pleased, but he endured the scanning that eventually followed.

“Well?” Megatron demanded gruffly.

First Aid was amused, and glad that his visor and face mask hid his expression. The war was over, it had been more than three decades since Ratchet had returned to Cybertron, but some things would never change. “You are most certainly sparked. Congratulations.” 

Renovarus, who had been standing on the other side of the medical berth, lit up with the widest of smiles. He didn’t say anything, but his field was going !!! to be sure. The young mech was excited.

Megatron said nothing as he sat himself up and shifted to leave the berth, a hand to his hood. There were some pokes being made through the link, but he wasn’t responding.

This was when Ratchet appeared, mesh in hand as he wiped off some energon. “What the frag is going on?” Since his bonded wasn’t giving him any answers. It made the medic incredibly concerned.

Renovarus exclaimed in delight, “He’s sparked!”

Ratchet paused, put hands on hipflare, and then barked a laugh for the news. “It’s got to be Optimus’. They were going at it hard last night.”

First Aid blushed for that concept, and excused himself. Those were details he didn’t want to hear. Megatron growled his engine at the remaining medic. Ratchet merely smiled and stepped up to the big mech before leaning in against him. He merely offered joy and comfort to his bonded. Megatron couldn’t help himself and slid an arm around the other.

Renovarus beamed at them both. “So who’s telling Optimus?”

Five years later…

Megatron had discovered that he didn’t much like carrying. Never mind he’d had what Ratchet called an easy time of it. Didn’t matter he barely showed at all. It looked little more than he’d put on some weight in the post war years. This didn’t change anything. He couldn’t spar, couldn’t go on missions, couldn’t bend over to pick anything up off the floor.. he didn’t like it one bit. A mech as active as he normally was, well, the last two years had been a trial. For himself and everyone he lived with.

Now he paced the habitat he shared with his family. It felt like his whole frame had turned against him. Everything hurt. The mech’s field was a bristly thing that most were avoiding.

Luckily Ratchet wasn’t most. He’d been kind of chasing his bonded around the hab for a bit now. “Let me do something about it..” Meaning the pain.

Megatron merely growled low and warningly and kept up his pacing. “How much longer?” He demanded, hand to the slight swell at his middle.

Ratchet gusted out an exasperated sound, “You aft.. Now if you’ll let me!”

Feeling a touch sheepish, but certainly not showing that, Megatron relented and let the medic jack into his hip area. “You sure you don’t want to do this in medical?” Asked as Ratchet worked at the pad, only glancing up briefly.

Megatron grunted and felt very sure. Anyone could walk in on medical. No privacy at all. With Soundwave guarding the door here it was sure to remain only among the immediate family. Optimus and Renovarus sat not far away, patiently waiting and saying nothing. Optimus was a nervous wreck, for all only Ratchet could tell that.

Ratchet nodded, having expected a no. Still, he dulled the pain to a manageable level and rubbed at Megatron’s lower back as the big mech relaxed some. “Let’s get to the berth room?” 

A nod from Megatron, and everyone kind of shifted from the front to the berth room the adults shared. There in his own home, with Ratchet’s help, Megatron birthed. Crouched near the berth, denting it at spots where he gripped too hard, they allowed gravity and Megatron’s own frame to expel a tiny, red form. With Megatron’s size there was no need for surgery.

Optimus, who had been holding Megatron behind during this, found himself supporting the other’s weight as the warlord leaned back, spent. Optimus quickly shifted his hold and balance, “You did it.” He murmured, his field full of praise and love. 

Megatron merely snorted at him, too weary for anything else, but was grateful for being held just the same. Glad that Optimus was here. The last few decades had been good for them both.

Ratchet checked the mechling over and was rewarded with a thin cry. He smiled for it and placed the mechling in a mesh Renovarus was holding. Ratchet claimed, “Well, we know Optimus is his sire for sure.” That red wasn’t Ratchet’s shade. But there was still work to do. With Optimus supporting Megatron, Ratchet cleaned the warlord up and made sure his system was dealing properly with the aftermath.

The cried had quieted to whimpers as Soundwave and Renovarus washed the little one up in the wash rack. They hurried however because Megatron hadn’t even gotten to hold him yet and was growing agitated. 

“I want to see him.” Was growled.

Ratchet shushed the big mech. “Give them a moment. You’ll be able to hold him for years, I promise.” Together he and Optimus got a shaky Megatron onto the berth. Before he was fully settled Soundwave was there laying a damp, red form on Megatron’s hood.

Megatron let out a long vent of almost relief for the mechling being close,and looked the little one over. Then, in spite of all the previous growls and rumbles, he smiled up at Soundwave. Megatron’s field was full of gratitude.

Soundwave leaned in and touched brows with Megatron before pulling back to let Optimus get close. Their fields twined briefly, a bond the war had only strengthened even in spite of the hacking.

Optimus waited patiently for Soundwave to move, and then sat himself on the side of the berth, field full of praise. Birthing was never easy on a mech, even for one of Megatron’s size and strength. 

Now able to, Megatron looked over his mechling. The tiny form was mostly red, but there were areas of blue and gold as well. His optics were blue as well. Unlike Renovarus, this one would be brightly colored. Like his sire. “He is perfect.” Optimus murmured.

Megatron mmmed for that, yet his field told that he was quite pleased with the results. After five years he could now hold his offspring. “I’d forgotten how small they are at first.” Considering it had been several decades since Renovarus was an infant. 

Renovarus himself was leaning around Optimus, smiling at it all. He knew he’d have his turn to hold his brother soon enough. For now he was content to watch.

Ratchet washed his hands and returned to climb on the berth as well, sitting himself on the side opposite of Optimus. “So what are we naming this little fellow.” A little fellow who had begin to cry again. Unfortunately for them all this one wasn’t going to be quiet like Renovarus had been.

Megatron grimaced for the sound and petted the mechling. “I didn’t miss that at all.” He needed some help from Ratchet, for he’d never fed Renovarus as an infant, in freeing the fuel cable from beneath his arm. Once it was clipped into the mechling, the cries faded away. Optimus covered them both with a thermal.

After a time of consideration, Megatron gave, “Crucible. I name him Crucible.”

Ratchet chuckled for it, “Quite a name for a mechling.”

Megatron shrugged broad pauldrons, “He’ll grow into it.”

Ratchet leaned over to give Megatron a warm kiss, “Of that I have no doubt.”


	2. Noise

Megatron fought to cover his audials with his hands. The noise was extremely loud, and grating. Looking to a very amused Ratchet, the ex warlord demanded, “What is wrong with him?” The amused look the medic gave him only grated further.

Kneeling on the floor, filming Crucible as he played, Ratchet was baffled. “What? What do you mean?”

Of course Crucible was banging things together, loudly, delighted with all the noise. The red mechling was already talking, albeit not well, and walking, so he babbled to himself to the beat of the cacophony.

Megatron motioned to the toddler. “That! He’s always so loud.” Given in almost a miserable manner.

Ratchet’s blinked, and then began to laugh. That didn’t suit Megatron at all. He glared at his partner. The medic was not intimidated however. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with him, sweetspark. He’s completely normal. It was Renovarus who was strange.” A big grin spread across the medic’s face. “I told you that years ago.”

Crucible dropped his ‘toys’ and flopped himself onto Ratchet, giggling. While Ratchet made sure his datapad stayed out of the reach of little fingers, he oophed and happily slid an arm about the red and blue accented mechling before babbling back. Together they made some more noise, for all the banging had thankfully stopped. Crucible had been nearly solid red on birth, but had gained blue and dark gray over the years. Totally more Optimus’ colors than Megatron’s.

Megatron stewed a bit, dismayed at the idea this was normal. Renovarus had been so quiet, so easy. Crucible got into /everything/ and made huge messes. Made tons of noise. Ratchet took it all in stride, loving having a mechling around again. Megatron was mostly dismayed. Optimus? Well, he simply accepted as he always did, and patiently loved on all.

Ratchet smiled and shared soothing love through their bond. ~ There’s nothing wrong with him. This is how mechlings are. If anything he’s hitting all his mile-stones early. You have a bright, active mechling with a good spark. Certainly nothing wrong with that. ~ The medic dropped some kisses on the red helm.

Soon Crucible got distracted and toddled off to play with some other toys that were laying around the room. Ratchet happily returned to filming. Together medic and mechling went over the names of things. Another game that Crucible loved.

Megatron sank down into a chair, feeling completely out of his depth.

Crucible brought him a toy, rambling on in a manner that made no sense, but determined to share.

Venting, Megatron accepted the little thing, and gave wearily, “Thank you.”


End file.
